Hello peoples! I am pleased to inform you that I have stopped being lazy and have finally started to write my first on-going fanfic! I really enjoyed writing this and have revised so many times to make it perfect. I hope you enjoy!
Warning: Child abuse~ if you don't like, you don't have to read.
Chapter 1: Like a Prince
Near. Close by, non distant, close in relation, close to an original, intimate or familiar, to approach. These are the many definitions of the word, near. These definitions somewhat contradict themselves, but only because my name is Near. I am always close by, yet seem distant in the eyes of all. I am close to an original-L (not as close in appearance as BB), but am my own person. I am not intimate, but am a familiar figure in the playroom or library. I am approached by many, but few stay.
My name is Near, formally Nate River. Near. A simple name for a simple person. Or so it seems, on the outside anyway. I have white hair and black brooding eyes, which haunt all who look into them (or so I've been told.) I wear white pajamas and play with toys, even though I'm well into my teenage years. Inside, my mind is complex and because I am an orphan, I was recruited to be one of L's successors. I have been and currently am, living in an orphanage, in Worchester, England. This is my home, the only one I can remember without being told. The name of this fine establishment is Wammy's. Wammy was a great inventor and very wealthy. So he decided to use that money and build orphanages all over the world. L was Wammy's prodigy and is now the world's three greatest detectives. I could tell you about their pasts, but I am human, therefore selfish, and this is my story.
Like all great stories, this one doesn't have a happy beginning. I was born to two very different individuals. My mother was kind, caring, nurturing, and loved me very much. My father was quite the opposite. He was mean, nasty, rude, and abusive. "Opposites attract." Very true. This is the phrase that comes to mind when thinking about them. Anyways, my mother took care of me very well. My father, well let's just say… it wasn't pretty. My father hated me. He never wanted a child. My mother insisted and seeing as how he listens to her every whim, he got her pregnant. They were married soon afterwards. So technically I'm a bastard, and my father never failed to point that out while screaming at me. Someone once said that people act differently behind closed doors. I would like to applaud that person, for simply stating the obvious by using very simple logic. The reason my mother wanted a child was because she worked at an elementary school. Simply put- she loved children. After I was born, she would take me to work almost every day. The school offered her an extended vacation, because of me, but she declined.
Up until the age of four, I loved the elementary school. My mother would lie me down in front of the window and I would take in my surroundings. I loved looking out that window. I watched the butterflies and birds in spring, the leaves in fall, and the soft snow in winter. During the summer, my mom took me to the park. I remember her laying me on a blanket, while she picked flowers. She made daisy chains, and wrapped me elegantly in them, almost like a prince. Every time we went to the park, she would read or tell me a story, almost always a fairytale. She would hum tunes and I would sing along, or vice versa. I soon became very fond of our outings, but because they were a secret from my father, I had to keep it a secret too. As we left the park, my daisy chains were strewn through the wind, only to wither and die days later.
A/N: Thank you for reading! Hopefully I will update quickly, because my writing/idea notebook has five pages of chapters filled out…. Please review! Flames, constructive critism, or whatever, I want to know what you think. Press the button… you know you wanna… :D